


we can do it all

by blanchtt, melrosie



Category: Ocean's 8 (2018)
Genre: F/F, Post-Canon, Strap-Ons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-28 06:44:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16236332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blanchtt/pseuds/blanchtt, https://archiveofourown.org/users/melrosie/pseuds/melrosie
Summary: “Whatever my baby girl wants, my baby girl gets,” Lou murmurs, nuzzles against Debbie’s neck just below her ear and doesn’t miss the noise that comes from the back of Debbie’s throat or the way she’s digging her fingers into the bedspread hard enough to pull it taught and pressing back more insistently, trying to take more of Lou into her or get Lou to move orsomething, and it works out perfectly that Lou’s not in the business of denying Debbie anything.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Heist Wives prompt #39: “I wish we could stay like this forever.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

There are a thousand way she likes to make Debbie cum, but her favorite might be like this—on her knees with her hands on Debbie’s hips and Debbie’s ass in the air, because Debbie’s breathing heavy and moaning and has slid forward, no longer supporting herself on hands and knees, all delicately curved back and tense shoulders and outstretched arms, hands clutching at their rumpled bedspread.

 

It’s like sun salutation except better because fuck yoga, and her hips and stomach and thighs are burning from the slow, steady thrusting she’s kept up thus far, and Lou lets go, reaches up with one hand to rake fingers through damp bangs and sweep them aside. She takes the moment to take a breath as well, ragged and deep, because she’s wet too despite the number of orgasms they've both had already and teasing Debbie means teasing herself, because all she wants to do is lean forward, maybe bite Debbie’s shoulder the way that makes her mewl just so, and fuck her into the mattress.

 

It’s not the strap-on so much as it is the abandonment, the way she can hold onto Debbie with both hands, can pull her to her like Debbie likes, add a little bit of roughness in with the loving—it has her come in a different way, a little wild and a little hard. Lou places her hand back on Debbie, trails from the back of her thigh up the curve of her ass and then settles palm-down on the small of her back.

 

“Lou,” Debbie pleads, head turning to the side against the bed just enough for Lou to see the way she’s got her eyes closed, the delicately shaped brows furrowed and pretty mouth open as she pants, hair ruffled and unhappy with the retrospective interruption. “Lou, _fuck_ me.”

 

The words pull a throb from between her thighs, and Lou closes her eyes, lets that frisson of lust pass over her and swallows. That, she can do. It might look like Debbie runs the show because she _does_ , but sometimes she likes to let go and Lou knows that’s something no one else has seen, knows what a rare privilege it is and appreciates it all the more for it, that she’s the only one Deb lets take control.

 

With a hand still grasping Debbie’s hip and the strap still in her, Lou leans forward, drapes across her back and holds herself up with the elbow of her free hand braced against the bed, hand curled loosely into a fist—it brings her face just level with Debbie’s, at least from behind, and Lou buries her face unhurriedly in dark, curly hair, searches, lets her nose brush against the curve of Debbie’s jaw.

 

“Whatever my baby girl wants, my baby girl gets,” Lou murmurs, nuzzles against Debbie’s neck just below her ear and doesn’t miss the noise that comes from the back of Debbie’s throat or the way she’s digging her fingers into the bedspread hard enough to pull it taught and pressing back more insistently, trying to take more of Lou into her or get Lou to move or _something_ , and it works out perfectly that Lou’s not in the business of denying Debbie anything.

 

She flexes her fingers against Debbie’s hip, rearranges and grips a little tighter, and it takes some coordination but she’s got that in spades, leans her weight heavy on her elbow and lets her free hand slip under Debbie’s body, cupping a breast, and she’s got Debbie exactly how she likes her, bracketed and steady under her, and Lou rocks her hips forward and _up_ the way Debbie likes, grunts as that first stroke after a pause causes warmth to blossom through her muscles, as she slides easy through Debbie’s wetness and bottoms out, as Debbie gasps breathlessly under her.

 

The harness is one of her favorites, and Debbie’s, too—supple, dark brown leather, cold steel rings that eventually warm with use. They’ve used it long and hard enough some nights for Debbie’s ass and the back of her thighs to sting. But with the first kiss and the way Debbie had pulled Lou on top of her, Lou had been able to read the mood, to know that tonight is about closeness, about her hands grasping anything they can and her body flush against Debbie’s and her hips right up against her ass, working like a slow, steady piston.

 

Some nights she likes to sit back and watch, hands clasped loosely behind her head and letting Debbie give her a show, or on others she’s the one on her back, Debbie dark-eyed on top of her as she sinks down onto her strap, in control. But tonight is an embrace, practically holding Debbie up and rolling her nipple between thumb and forefinger, and heady on the closeness Lou indulges herself, finds a curve of Debbie’s shoulder and seeks out the tendon that’s stretched taught and bites down, works it with teeth and tongue and knows Debbie’s a big girl and can reach down and get herself off with a few brushes of her fingertips against her clit because she’s pretty damn occupied right now.

 

“Harder,” Debbie manages to gasp out, and Lou can do that, too, picks up the pace a little but mostly just fucks Debbie _harder_ , the kind of deep, hard strokes that pull a surprised, hiccupping little breath out of Debbie every time she bottoms out, the kind of strokes that take her whole body working together to make, the kind of strokes that make the bed jerk and the headboard slap against the wall.

 

She’s sweaty and hot and her bangs are in her eyes again but there’s nothing that turns her on more than the sounds Debbie makes when she’s getting close, the stinging slap of her thighs against Debbie’s ass and the slick sound of Debbie’s wetness and Debbie’s gasps that become louder and deeper and the way she trembles before it finally culminates in Debbie pressing up hard against her and keening long and hard until it trails off into something tight and strangled and she finally collapses under her.

 

Debbie slides forward against the mattress, boneless, and Lou follows, knows Debbie loves the weight of Lou on top of her and settles against her back and lets go of Debbie’s hip, reaches up and hooks fingers through Debbie’s hair, tucks some behind her ear enough for Lou to lean forward and kiss her cheek but also to check up on her.

 

“You good, Debs?” she asks like she always does, can’t help but do, because she is taller and weighs a shade more than Debbie, but when Debbie answers she turns her head just a bit, eyes still closed in bliss and smiling, sounds a little like she does when she’s tipsy, and Lou grins.

 

“ _Very_ good.”

 

She lays there in a comfortable silence long enough to feel Debbie’s heartbeat slow and return to normal, hand still cupping a breast, and for Debbie’s breathing to even out, and Lou finally shifts, makes to rise up and slip out, but Debbie’s hand is reaching back and on her hip, keeping her there and ordering, “Don’t.”

 

At that Lou raises a brow, takes only a moment to understand, and it takes some careful nudging but then she finds herself on her side, Debbie's back against her front. It’s almost routine for her to slip her arms around Debbie’s slim waist, to pull Debbie flush to her and to maybe cop a feel and to fall asleep like that, exhausted and happy like they used to. It’s new, though not unwanted, that Debbie’s still got a hand on her hip, as if Lou would ever dream of moving away, the strap still in her.

 

“Whatever my baby girl wants, my baby girl gets,” Debbie mocks lightly, drowsily, almost preventatively, because, yeah, there’s some smart-ass remark on the tip of Lou's tongue about how Debbie can’t get enough of her strap, which is true but also not because Debbie can’t get enough of _her_ , not some piece of silicone.

 

“You’re damn right,” Lou agrees, whole-hearted, and it's late and exhaustion is starting to seep into her muscles, replacing warmth, and so she tilts her head down a bit and buries her face in dark curls, rests her lips against the back of Debbie’s neck in a lingering kiss goodnight before following Debbie's sleepy lead and closing her eyes.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Debbie flexes her fingers, massages her own breast to get things going and feels Lou’s hand slide up from her thigh to her side and over her hand, squeezing over hers but otherwise holding annoyingly still.
> 
> “You going to help or not?” Debbie finally asks, and Lou breaks out into the biggest shit-eating smile she’s ever seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Melrosie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/melrosie/pseuds/melrosie) wrote this chapter! I just incorporated some of my own wording. Literally 95% of this is brought to you by Melrosie. Thank you for letting me post this collaboration on your behalf.

 

 

 

 

 

 

She comes to wakefulness slowly, like she always does in Lou’s bed.

 

There are no alarm clocks to turn off, no glaring sunlight coming in from open windows, not even the sound of traffic, only the body-warmed sheets pulled up enough to keep her from shivering, which Debbie draws closer and buries her face in, breathing in the scent of Lou’s detergent and fabric softener mixed with the scent of them—and of course, Lou beside her.

 

(In the past, when the Claude con they’d been running had started to spiral out of control, Claude appearing to fall for her and Debbie barely hiding her disgust about it and Lou unable to hide her jealousy, there had been no nights in Lou’s loft and no falling asleep in Lou’s bed and, worst of all, no Lou waking up next to her in the morning.)

 

Now there is only her and Lou, half-draped over her in sleep, and a day with nothing to fill with except whatever they’d like to, and so Debbie breathes in deeply, feels her head start to clear and reaches up careful not to bump Lou, stretches with fingertips brushing the headboard and back arching and then stops immediately, the movement making it quite clear as the memories of last night flood back that Lou’s strap-on has somehow _not_ slipped out overnight.

 

It’s not particularly shocking. She’s always been a light sleeper, never one to toss and a turn and Lou able to sleep hard when she wants to. But now, she can feel Lou’s warm breath against her neck, her soft exhalations and her arm warm around her and hand against her stomach, her hips flush against her and the strap, still deep inside her, and Debbie closes her eyes briefly at the realization, bites her bottom lip to suppress a groan, surprisingly turned on. It feels as if last night’s marathon did nothing to curb her hunger.

 

“Lou,” Debbie whispers, tilts her hips back and sucks in a breath but doesn’t move yet. She lets a hand rise to her breast, though the other she uses to reach back, to reach behind her and caress the curve of Lou’s ass, to slip fingers under the the leather of the harness as she turns her head to nuzzle against Lou. At the motion, Lou gives a sleepy groan, arm around her waist pulling Debbie closer unknowingly, and Debbie whimpers, manages to say a little louder this time with a tug, “Lou, baby, wake up.”

 

“What is it?” Lou mumbles sleepily, hardly comprehendible and blearily nuzzling Debbie’s neck, and Debbie breathes in deep, rocks her hips back as she holds Lou to her and practically senses Lou realize exactly what she’s asking for.

 

“ _Oh_ ,” Debbie hears, and Lou’s head rises a bit, meeting her eyes—even with last night’s make-up still on, somehow Lou makes it work, makes it look like that’s exactly how she intended to wake up, all smoky eye and rumpled blonde hair and an amused look on her face. There’s a hand on her thigh now, Lou’s fingers pressing teasingly, and there’s a laugh that’s really only breathed out as she asks, “Had enough?”

 

Clearly she hasn’t, though she refuses to admit to it. Debbie flexes her fingers, massages her own breast to get things going and feels Lou’s hand slide up from her thigh to her side and over her hand, squeezing over hers but otherwise holding annoyingly still.

 

“You going to help or not?” Debbie finally asks, and Lou breaks out into the biggest shit-eating smile she’s ever seen. This will come back to bite her in the ass in the form of endless teasing, but when Lou does it Debbie can hardly blame her or find it in herself to be annoyed by it because everything Lou teases her about is painfully, embarrassingly accurate. So Debbie stops trying, grins up at her and asks sweetly, “Fuck me again?”

 

“You’re insatiable,” Lou chuckles, and she props herself up on an elbow, drops a kiss to her lips and says, “On your back, baby.”

 

Debbie can hardly help the way her eyes flutter shut at that, at the way Lou asks, at the way Lou’s voice is still deep with sleep, at the groan that makes its way past her lips at the anticipation, or the gasp just after as Lou slips gently out of her, feels the stark absence of the toy. But Debbie rolls onto her back and arches again, gets in a good stretch before parting her legs and framing Lou’s hips as Lou settles between them, Lou never gone for long.

 

Lou kisses her again, accepts Debbie’s arms around her shoulders pulling her closer as she eases the strap back into her, and Lou leans over her, skin to skin, presses an open-mouthed kiss to Debbie’s shoulder and picks up a rhythm with her hips as she trails kisses down over her collarbone.

 

“That’s good,” Debbie murmurs, lifts her hips up to meet Lou’s lazy thrusts, and Lou draws her teeth over the swell of Debbie’s breast, nipping and sucking alternatively, gently. Debbie slips a hand between her own legs, fingertips finding her clit, while her other hand finds the nape of Lou’s neck, slips into the short strands there and curls them around her fingers and holds tight.

“ _How_ are you this wet?” Lou breathes from above her, an eyebrow quirked in confusion but nonetheless looking quite satisfied at the ease with which she can move between her thighs, in the sound of her hips against Debbie’s.

 

“Some pretty good dreams involving you,” Debbie breathes out a laugh, arching her back and moaning loudly as she finds the perfect rhythm between the thrusts of Lou’s strap-on and the pace of her fingers working up-and-down strokes against her clit. “But you _are_ quite good at getting me soaking wet.”

 

“You give me the nicest compliments,” Lou laughs, blue eyes narrowed in amusement, and she rolls her hips and continues her slow, deep thrusts, pulls a whimper from her as her lips find Debbie’s jaw and then her mouth, meeting Debbie’s clumsy kiss. “Are you close?” Lou asks breathlessly against her lips, feeling Debbie’s thighs beginning to tremble against her hips, and when Debbie nods Lou grunts, thrusts a little harder and angles herself upward in that way Debbie loves, that way that immediately steals any coherent language from Debbie’s tongue.

 

“Oh—oh, fuck, _right_ there,” Debbie says, feels it low in her cunt, a tightness that has her body going taught, sweeping her over the edge when Lou lingers inside her as deep as she can take it and asks so nicely _come for me, baby girl_ , and a series of sobbed moans slip from her lips as she tugs at Lou’s hair roughly.

 

Despite the rough treatment, she’s halfway through her orgasm and Lou’s still continuing her slow thrusts, riding her through it and sucking a love bite against her throat until the pleasure washes over her, receding, and Debbie thoroughly melts under her, eyes closed and breathing hard.

 

“Can I take this off now?” Lou asks amusedly from above her, leaning in to kiss Debbie until she gets her shit together and has half a mind to return it. Debbie finally lets her fingers slip from Lou’s hair, trails her hand down and ends up resting it against Lou’s bicep. “This thing was not meant to sleep in.”

 

“Can I eat you out?” Debbie asks in reply, opening her eyes and grinning as she dodges Lou’s kiss, returns the favor and works her own mark against Lou’s neck, motion slow but mark bound to be noticeable if Debbie’s got any say in it.

 

“Like I said,” Lou says, a hint of laughter in it as she pulls out carefully, and there’s a smug sound from her as Debbie can’t help the breathless whimper she lets out. “Whatever my girl wants, my girl gets.”

 

Debbie hums and pushes Lou away carefully, sits up and reaches up and sweeps her mane of hair over her shoulder to keep it out of the way before she takes a knee, brings herself level with Lou before her and reaches out, cradles Lou’s jaw with one hand as she pulls her in for another kiss and using the other to blindly start undoing the straps on the leather harness.

 

“But do _you_ want it?” Debbie asks, and Lou smiles against her lips.

 

“Yes—always.”

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
